Roses are dead and so are you
by Fate4Destiny
Summary: A dark Hetalia Valentine one shot. France x England, America x Canada, Germany x Prussia, china x Russia. Please read and review


**Summary: a dark Valentine one shot for Hetalia**

**Rated M for safety.**

**Warnings: includes suicide, character death, murder, blood, etc**

**Disclaimer: I do not own any Hetalia characters**

**Pairings: France x England**

**Canada x America**

**Germany x Prussia**

**China x Russia**

_**Roses are dead,**_

Arthur watched another petal fall from the collections in the vase. Years ago he kept them pressed between Shakespeare's Romeo and Juliet, but now, they meant no love.

They were black tipped, rotten in the insides, dried hard, and would become dust at a single touch. They were no longer the silk flower dipped in wine his lover teased him with so merciless before.

At first, it was pleasurable. The playful bondage, drunk games, and immense teasing. But it hurt. After years of having his pride taken away, hours at once where'd he be teased, he couldn't handle it anymore. He cracked.

Sobs ran down his cheeks, his voice cracked as his dry throat was filled with the vibrating air. It was just like that night. Doused in candlelight, feeling his body burn and in pain from the pleasure never being finished. He was teased until his body collapsed into a dead faint. And he'd wake to those oceanic eyes which only wanted to play again. To prove that after centuries of having one goal, he had failed. That Arthur would always be second best. In whatever it was.

On the dreadful anniversary of when the Frenchman had left him in a hectic frenzy on his bed, never to return, Arthur closed his eyes and cried. It was as if his body was still tied down and he could never get away. And even when the roses would become a pile of ash, able to be blown away by the wind, Arthur would tremble and be just as weak. Because no matter the lost they represented, they once stood for something much more.

**_Violets are too,_**

The purple pools of violet misted over before becoming flooded in tears. They traced down his cheeks and fell to the ground unheard.

Past the screams, cries for help, accents mingled in from his founding countries, the Canadian couldn't move. His hands shook and dropped the gun he had attempted to pick up. How could it have happened?

The short message in his hand, black military code on a dirty white paper, was the only information he'd ever receive on the event.

Date: February 14th, 1943,

Location: Kasserine Pass,

Update: American army is defeated and seized.

The one person who always brought happiness to him, the one soul who always protected him, was gone. It was if every layer of his heart was peeled back and dipped in acid. The pain climbed into his body like a serpent, took control, and wasn't stopped.

Eyes blurred the background, the violet orbs hidden. He put his hands together, the torn paper between his dirty gloves. He then bowed his head over his hands and continued to show his uttermost remorse.

The sound of crunching then an explosion sounded much closer but he didn't move. When the walls collapsed on the underground room, and he soon gasped for more than the dry air, he still did not move.

Only when shaking fingers took a hold on the gun, motivation searing through his veins, did he move.

His head crashed against the slab of concrete with a sickening crunch, his last breath was unable to be breathed as the air couldn't make it to his lungs, not enough for a successful last breath.

The violet pools looked up wide-eyed but with no expression. Blood splattered across the white and they became a vivid mixture. Like dying flowers buried underneath layers of their dirt filled grave.

_**I am now dead,**_

Ludwig heard the door close and he quickly banged on it.

"This isn't time to play around."

"I know, West."

The German suddenly felt nervous. So many dark memories came from this room, so many faces- upon the thousands- had he watched enter and never leave. The familiar click made him give up. It would only be seconds now.

He placed a hand against the pane of glass and watched the Prussian put a hand over it. So much was left unsaid, why was this happening?

When the gas filled the room in a mist, Ludwig felt it enter his lungs, burning his throat and eyes. His eyes teared up and he no longer saw the Albino. He kept his hand on the glass until his body fell onto the ground where so many others had fallen. Given up to his sins, the German could never notice the Albino's hand still loyally on the glass.

_**And so are you,**_

Ivan heard the wolves howl as he ran a finger across the soft skin underneath his gloved hand. The winter air made his face burn as his fingertips slipped down the lips which grazed his body too many times to count.

The body laid perfectly from the days ago it happened. The Chinese man had been gushing blood and crying for help when the Russian enclosed him in the ice tomb. When he came back his angel was perfectly kept.

The body was kept on the soft, snowy, crimson, red. As if it was forever sleeping on the most lush of beds. Unable to feel the cold through the gloves, it was as if his lover had been sleeping instead of having only an empty puppet.

A malicious dance arose from that puppet as the Russian softly kissed the icy lips. Smiling pleasantly, he unstacked the ice. Pushing the cubes aside he took a small knife out and split the body open. The blood did not pour, and the organs were a purple with black tinges.

One last kissed was shared between the two as the Russian slipped the knife back and walked back to his home, not offering any more goodbyes.

He heard the wolfs howl again soon the sound of gnashing jaws filled the frosty air. Only when he turned at too far of a distance to see the details did he let a few words slip. His lover cloaked in the purest of reds, those lips hadn't disobeyed his, and with the beauty of an angel. The Russian smiled before letting the words escape.

"Segodnja ja lublu tebja bol'she, chem vchera,

no vse zhe men'she, chem budu lubit' zavtra."

(Today I love you more than yesterday,

But it's still less than I will love you tomorrow.)

_**Roses are dead,**_

_**Violets are too,**_

_**I am now dead,**_

_**And so are you.**_

_**~Happy Valentine's day~**_


End file.
